


So Close to Me

by angelsaves



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ensemble Cast, Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9842843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: A self-indulgent college AU, where Keith has a totally subtle crush on Shiro the Hot TA, and also likes to wear pretty underwear.(unbetaed)





	

Keith is a master of patience and stealth.

"You're really not," Pidge says, glasses flashing. "Everyone knows you have a crush on Shiro the Hot TA."

"Not _everyone_ ," Keith protests. "I'm being really chill about it!"

"Pretty sure everyone does," Hunk says, "and you've never been chill about anything in your entire life."

"Wait," Lance says. "Keith has a crush on Shiro the Hot TA?"

"See?" Keith points at Lance with righteous fury. "Not everyone!"

"Lance doesn't count," Pidge says.

"Hey!" Lance pouts.

"Sorry, buddy. Pidge is right." Hunk pats Lance on the shoulder. "You're kind of oblivious."

"I'm pretty sure Shiro the Hot TA is waiting until after finals to admit he notices your giant crush," Pidge goes on, flipping a textbook page. "He seems like the type."

"He might not have noticed," Keith says. "I'm really subtle."

"Oh!" Lance snaps his fingers. "Is that why Keith pays so much attention in discussion section, and always agrees with Shiro the Hot TA?"

Keith drops his head into his hands. "Can we please stop calling him that out loud?"

"You started it, bro," Hunk says apologetically.

"Plus, it's true," Lance says. "He's almost as gorgeous as Allura the Hot Coffee Shop Manager." When Keith raises his head, Lance is making goo-goo eyes, and Allura isn't even in view.

"She is beautiful," Pidge agrees.

Thank God, a different subject. "I like her accent," Keith chimes in.

"It's so dreamy," Lance says. "I want her to destroy me, sexually."

Pidge smacks him. "We're in public!"

"She could do it in public," Lance continues, undeterred. "I'd be fine with that."

"You know what I'd be fine with?" Hunk asks.

"Studying?" Pidge suggests, flipping another page.

"Well, yes." Hunk rubs the back of his neck. "But I was thinking of another round of coffee, and maybe some of those little cake pops."

"Ooh, that does sound good," Pidge says.

"I'll get it!" Lance leaps to his feet. "Maybe Allura will come out of the stock room while I'm up there." He almost trips over his chair in his excitement, but he makes it.

"Seriously, though," Pidge says, once Lance is out of earshot," Lance was the last to know."

" _Ugh,_ ," Keith says with feeling. "Have I mentioned that I hate you? All of you?"

"Not lately," Hunk says, giving him a comforting shoulder pat.

"What am I supposed to do?" Keith rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. "He's so -- and I'm just --" He waves his hands in the air to demonstrate how Shiro is tall and handsome and reputedly some kind of hero, while Keith is short and awkward and definitely not any kind of hero at all.

"A -- washing machine?" Hunk guesses. "A sprinkler system?"

Keith groans. It's not worth it.

"Here's what you do," Pidge says, shoving a piece of notebook paper at him. Is that some kind of diagram? "You make an appointment to see him after the final grades are posted, but before break starts. Then, instead of discussing your grades..."

"You smooch him!" Hunk interrupts gleefully.

"That seems... a little simplistic," Keith says. Then he squints at Pidge's diagram. "Is that supposed to be me? Why do I look so angry?"

Pidge has a coughing fit right then, and Keith is a little suspicious, but Lance comes back with a tray of drinks and a bag of cake pops, so Keith decides to focus on that. "Ooh, latte art," he says, grabbing his cup. It's a picture of a man -- a man with a scar across his nose. Oh God. "Everyone really does know," he says, and slumps down low in his chair.

Lance pats his hand sympathetically. "At least he's really hot," he says.

"Can we please study?" Hunk wails. "I'm never going to understand this stuff!"

"It's simple," Pidge says, and explains. Keith tries to listen, he does, but he keeps wishing it were Shiro talking about it instead.

"Are you all enjoying your drinks?" Allura asks, appearing with a fresh batch of cake pops in her hands.

"We sure are, princess!" Lance says, grinning at her in what he probably thinks is a seductive way.

Allura rolls her eyes fondly at the nickname. "I'm glad to hear it," she says. "Here -- I was hoping to get your opinions on this new recipe."

They each take one and taste it. "Not bad," Pidge says, mouth full.

"I love you -- I mean it," Lance blurts out.

"It's good," Keith tells her.

"Ease up just a hair on the cardamom." Hunk smacks his lips thoughtfully, then adds, "And think about orange zest instead of lemon."

"Oh, thank you!" Allura beams. "Hunk, I'll take your advice for the next batch."

"The texture is excellent!" Hunk calls over his shoulder as Allura hurries back to the kitchen.

Keith chews on his cake pop's stick, going back to his notes. They're not as perfect as Pidge's -- he's only used one pencil and one highlighter, for one thing -- but he's pretty proud of how detailed they are. He's going to do well on this test. He has to.

***

Shiro is wearing a black shirt even tighter than usual at their Tuesday discussion section, and Keith is so mesmerized by his muscles that it's an actual effort to keep his jaw off his desk.

"Wow," Lance says, leaning down to stage-whisper in Keith's ear, "and I thought _you_ were buff."

Keith pushes Lance's face away. "Shut up." It's true, though. Keith works out pretty regularly, but next to Shiro's sculpted torso, Keith looks like... well, Lance.

"Okay, guys, are we all set?" Shiro asks the dozen or so students in the room. "I figured I'd start by going over the test format first, and then take questions. Sound good?" There's a general murmur of agreement. "Okay, good."

Keith actually paid attention when Professor "call me Coran" Smythe explained that in lecture, so he lets his attention drift from what Shiro is saying to how he looks while he's saying it. God, he's handsome. He's got these chiseled features, and the scar across the bridge of his nose only makes him look more interesting, and Keith would do pretty much anything for an excuse to squeeze those biceps.

"Does anybody know? Keith?"

Crap. "Sorry, would you repeat the question, please?" Keith asks, internally punching himself in the face.

"Sure," Shiro says, as if Keith isn't a drooling goofus.

***

The exam on Thursday... is an exam, and that's all Keith has to say about it. The important part is that it's over, and in a few hours, it'll be graded, and Keith will be able to embarrass himself to death, probably.

After lunch and his English exam, Keith goes back to his dorm room -- which he has all to himself, a perk of being a senior -- to get changed. He'd like to look a little nicer than this, just in case that sways Shiro, and he wants to feel confident and attractive, so he goes into his special drawer.

Under a folded T-shirt, for safekeeping, is the underwear he likes to wear for good luck. It's a set, a camisole and panties in soft, stretchy red lace, and Keith really likes the way he looks and feels in it. He strips off his sweats and puts the nice underwear on, smoothing the lace over his hips and chest, and admiring himself in the mirror on the back of the door.

Over that, he puts on jeans and a flannel shirt, one that Lance says makes him look like a sexy lumberjack (he might have been drunk at the time). Now, all he has to do is wait for the grades to go up. He's already reserved the last of Shiro's office hour slots for the evening; it's time for video games, ramen, and more video games to fill the time.

***

Keith's alarm goes off with just enough time to get to a save point in his game, put on a jacket, and hurry over to the right building, and not enough time to worry himself into a funk. (He's learned to plan around these things.)

There's no one waiting outside Shiro's office, and the door is open, showing Keith that there's no one in there with him, either. He knocks on the door frame anyway. "Hello?"

Shiro looks up and smiles at him. "Oh, hi, Keith!" he says. "You're right on time."

"Cool." Keith takes a step inside, then asks, "Do you mind if I close the door?"

"Not at all," Shiro says. "Whatever makes you more comfortable."

Definitely closed, then. Keith does so, then sits down in the chair across from Shiro's. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Your exam?" Shiro suggests. "You did very well, especially for a non-major."

"Not my exam." Keith shifts in his seat, then forces himself to look Shiro right in the eye. "Now that grades are posted, you're not technically my TA anymore," he says. "I wanted to tell you that I have a really big crush on you, and I'd like to date you." He lets out the rest of his breath in a whoosh.

"I... wow," Shiro says. "That's... I'm really flattered." A blush spreads across his cheeks, making his scar stand out sharply.

"Is that a no?" Keith asks. If it is, he wants to get out of there as soon as humanly possible, if not sooner, so he can drown his sorrows in a pint of cookie butter ice cream.

"No," Shiro says. "It's -- it's not a no."

"Oh." Keith wets his lips. "Good?"

Shiro smiles at him shyly, which is, wow, not an expression Keith would ever have expected to see on such a handsome face, but one he thinks he really likes. "Do you want to, uh. Get coffee, or something?"

What Keith wants is to climb into Shiro's lap and have his way with him. "That sounds awesome," he says, reining it in.

"Cool." Shiro's smile deepens. "I know a good place -- my friend runs it. I think you'll like it." He gets up from his desk -- _way_ up, God, he's tall -- and goes around it to hold the door open for Keith. 

"You're such a gentleman," Keith tells him, bumping his shoulder as they walk in what he hopes is a friendly way.

Shiro laughs. "My grandmother raised me right," he says. "I'm planning on buying your coffee, too."

"It better be good," Keith teases.

"Oh, it will be." The look Shiro shoots him from under his lashes is -- the only word Keith can think of is _smoldering_.

That's his only excuse for not noticing which way they're walking until they're right in front of Castle of Lions. "This is my favorite coffee shop!" he blurts out, then puts the pieces together. "You're friends with Allura?"

"Yeah, for years," Shiro says, holding the door for Keith again. "She's the one who introduced me to Coran -- he doesn't usually like to work with grad students, but she got him to at least consider me as a teaching assistant."

"This is amazing," Keith says. "The world is like -- this big." He holds his thumb and index finger less than an inch apart to demonstrate. "My friends and I study here all the time."

"And they tip well," Allura says, coming out from behind the counter to air-kiss Shiro. "Hello, Shiro, Keith. How are you this evening?" She actually _winks_ at Keith, whose mouth drops open.

"We're great," Shiro says. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm wonderful," Allura says. "A latte for you, Keith, and a raspberry mocha for you, Shiro?"

"Yes, please," Keith says.

"That sounds great," Shiro says. "Put it on my tab? We'll be at the table in the corner." The _romantic_ table in the corner. Keith might die.

"Of course." Allura hums a little tune as she heads for the espresso machine.

"Raspberry mocha, huh?" Keith asks, once they're sitting down.

Shiro grins sheepishly. "It's only for special occasions."

Oh, Keith likes the sound of that. "Really," he says, drawing out the syllables. "So this is a special occasion?"

"I mean, I'd like to think so," Shiro says, and he takes Keith's hand across the table. "I really like you."

"Wow," Keith breathes. "I really like you, too."

"Cool." Shiro beams. "So, Keith, what do you like to do outside of Coran's class?"

"I read a lot," Keith says. "History major. And, uh, I work out?"

"I can tell," Shiro says, giving his chest an appreciative glance. "I work out too -- I used to hate it, but after a few years of physical therapy, it's really nice to know what my body is capable of."

"I bet." Keith tries not to look at Shiro's prosthetic arm -- he probably hates that -- and admires his broad shoulders instead. "Well, uh -- it shows."

"Thanks!" Shiro taps on the table with his fingers. "You can look at my arm, you know. It's an interesting piece of machinery."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Keith says. "It's not like -- I don't know. It's just another part of you, right?"

"Well, yeah, but it's a part of me with cool purple racing stripes." Shiro traces the double line going down his forearm with one fingertip, smiling at him, and Keith thinks about other places he could touch like that and goes hot all over. 

"That's true," he says. "Can you -- I don't know how it works. Can you feel that?"

"Yeah," Shiro says. "Not as finely as I could on my other arm, but there's some haptic feedback, sort of like when you have a local anesthetic. It's way more advanced than the first one I had, I'll tell you that."

"Here you go, boys!" Allura says cheerfully, depositing their drinks in front of them. "Enjoy!"

"Thanks, Allura," Shiro says, and Keith echoes him a moment later, distracted by the heart she's drizzled unsubtly into his latte. At least it's not a portrait of Shiro this time.

Shiro takes a sip of his drink and makes a happy _mmm_ sound. Keith wants to hear him make that sound -- all kinds of ways he shouldn't be thinking about in public. 

"Good?" Keith asks him.

"Great," Shiro says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "How's yours?"

"I like to let it get cooler first. I know, gross."

"I mean, it's still coffee," Shiro says reasonably. "It's not like you're leaving it for days."

Keith laughs. "Ew!"

"I had a roommate who did that once," Shiro goes on. "I swear, there was practically a civilization in that mug before he finally cleaned it up!"

"Was he at least a bio major?" Keith asks.

"Physics," Shiro says, shaking his head.

"No excuse!" Keith touches the side of his cup and decides it's cool enough to drink. When he looks up mid-sip, Shiro is watching him. "It's good," he says.

"I was wondering," Shiro says. "When we're done with our coffee, do you want --"

"Yes," Keith interrupts him.

Shiro chuckles. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to be into it anyway," Keith says.

"I thought maybe you'd like to see my place," Shiro finishes.

" _Yes,_ " Keith says.

***

Shiro's studio apartment is small and scrupulously clean-- no gross coffee cups, only a neat stack of graded exams on the little table by the arm of the couch to show that somebody lives here. "This is it," Shiro says. He sits down on the couch and looks up at Keith. "Uh, care to join me?"

Keith stands in front of him, gazing down, frozen with how many things he wants to do at the same time. "Yeah," he says, but he doesn't move. Shiro holds out his hands, and Keith takes them, one a little cooler than the other, both broad and strong. "Yeah," Keith says again, and he steps forward, straddling Shiro's lap, and leans down to kiss him.

Shiro melts into it, making the same _mmm_ sound he did at the first sip of his special-occasion coffee. He rests his hands on Keith's back, pulling him down to meet his mouth, hot and soft and wet, and Keith wonders if he can feel the lace through his shirt.

Tentatively, he pets Shiro's hair, right where the thick, silky longer hair gives way to the soft fuzz of his undercut, and Shiro shudders. "Good?" Keith asks.

"Really good," Shiro says, shifting so Keith's hand is on his neck; Keith puts his mouth there instead. Shiro makes a small sound in his throat at that. Keith nibbles a little, and the sound grows into a moan. Neck thing: check.

He goes back to kissing Shiro's mouth -- God, he could do this forever, he could drown in this -- and Shiro's hands start to wander, down to the hem of Keith's shirt, where there's a little gap between it and his jeans. Keith pushes back into the touch, and he feels the moment when Shiro's fingertips touch the lace of his camisole.

"Oh," Shiro says softly, "what's this?" 

Keith decides to go for it; he sits back on Shiro's knees to pull his shirt off over his head, revealing his lacy red camisole, and looks at him, eyebrows raised. 

"Look at you," Shiro breathes, tracing the lacy trim under Keith's collarbones, just like Keith imagined. "You look so good."

"I like to feel pretty," Keith says. He leans back a little more, exposing his lower abs, and tugs the waistband of his jeans down to show off the matching underpants. 

"You are pretty," Shiro says. He's looking down at the red lace across Keith's hipbones, almost greedily. "You're so pretty, Keith, I don't know what to do with you."

"I can think of a couple of things," Keith says, and kisses Shiro again, letting him explore his fancy underwear with his hands. 

"Hmm," Shiro says, cupping Keith's ass. "How about -- this?" In a swift motion, he's flipped Keith onto his back on the couch, hovering above him.

"It's a good start," Keith says, looking up at Shiro, who looks pretty pleased with himself and what he sees. 

"I don't usually do this on a first date," Shiro says. "I don't want you to think I'm -- easy, or something." 

"Do what?" Keith asks, and then Shiro's hauling his legs up over his shoulders, shoving the lace panties aside, and oh, God, licking him. "Oh -- I promise I won't tell anybody --"

Shiro laughs in his throat, vibrating against Keith's ass, and licks deeper, a whole new set of sensations he never expected to feel. His hands spread Keith's cheeks, one thumb rubbing over the edge of the lace. 

"Shiro," Keith begs, not even sure what he's begging for. He's never felt so exposed or so pretty, and he never wants it to end.

"You want more?" Shiro asks. "My fingers, maybe?"

"Fuck," Keith says. "Yes, Shiro, please --" Then one of Shiro's fingers joins his tongue, and the stretch is perfect. He makes a noise that isn't even close to words, just pure pleasure.

"That's right," Shiro says, "I want you to come like this, just like this --"

Keith's never managed it without involving his cock, which is still untouched and wrapped in red lace, but God, if Shiro wants him to, he'll rewire his whole body. Shiro's finger hits the spot, hard, then again and again, and Keith cries out and comes, just like that. 

"God, you're beautiful," Shiro says, licking the tip of his cock through the lace. 

" _Shiro,_ ," Keith says, and drags him up to kiss him, long and deep and filthy. "What do you want?"

"To rub off on you," Shiro says, matching actions to words. "I want to get your pretty lace all messy and know I'm the one who did it."

"Fuck, yes," Keith says. He grabs Shiro's ass in both hands, pulling them impossibly closer together, Shiro's cock thrusting between his skin and his camisole huge and hot and incredible. He wants that in his mouth -- next time, maybe --

"Keith," Shiro growls in his ear, " _Keith_ \--" He comes all over Keith's chest, and it's fucking amazing.

Keith kisses his neck. "You're the best TA ever," he says, a little high on orgasm.

"I'm not your TA anymore!" Shiro protests. "I would never take advantage of you that way."

"Mmm," Keith says, "but someday will you pretend I'm your naughty student?"

Shiro laughs into his hair. "If that's what you want."


End file.
